


Try to Remember

by dettiot



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2110779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dettiot/pseuds/dettiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Autumns across time and space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Try to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: post-Fear Her; references to Army of Ghosts and Doomsday (and one kinda for The Shakespeare Code, although it's not one that would give anything away from that ep). Inspired by the songs "Try to Remember" from The Fantasticks and "September Song" from Knickerbocker Holiday.

"Try to remember the kind of September  
When life was slow and oh, so mellow."

They walked hand-in-hand through a forest of trees with bright yellow leaves, on a planet where autumn lasted for a year. His coat was buttoned; she wore a long scarf with a fringe that fluttered in the breeze. The sun shone brightly, but the chill in the air made her walk closer to him. He almost pointed out that since his body temperature was lower than hers he'd only make her colder, but he didn't. 

He swung their joined hands and scuffed his feet through the leaves that littered the path. Ending up on Meridian during the planet's autumn hadn't been what he was aiming for, but now that they were there . . . it was perfect. Just what they needed.

***

He pulled Rose away from the crowd, the one outside Parliament that was screaming for the head of Guy Fawkes. He grabbed her hand and tugged her away through narrow streets, past closed-up shops and darkened houses, until they stumbled into a wooded area. This would eventually become Hyde Park, but for now, it was still a royal hunting ground, and just being here could get them executed. He decided not to tell Rose that, however, since they'd already come so close to being killed tonight.

He grasped her hand tightly as they walk slowly through the park, even though he wanted to drag her along behind them until they get to the TARDIS and can leave. There was something in the air that made him skittish and jumpy, something other than that crisp fall feeling. The trees were bare against the evening sky, the sky that was so clear and free of the pollution that Rose would grow up knowing in her London. And the stars shone down, reminding him that only a few things last forever.

***

In a small apple orchard in upstate New York, the Doctor leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest in satisfaction. This time, he had meant to arrive here and now, and it was very impressive, he had to say. Even Rose thought so--she had literally said he was impressive!

He couldn't help the grin that crossed his face as Rose drank cider and gazed around the orchard at the trees laden with apples, at the pumpkins and straw bales, at the scarecrows that for some reason slightly disturbed him. 

_"A storm's approaching."_

The memory of those words . . . they've haunted them ever since he said them. They came into his mind whenever he feels like this, happy and content and, dare he say it, settled. He shook his head, trying to ignore them. He didn't want to think about that, about how deep within every bone in his body was the feeling that this, that they, were ending. 

He shrugged his shoulders and focused on Rose, who was munching on a doughnut. She licked her lips, and he lost his train of thought. 

***

"Oh, it's a long, long while from May to December  
But the days grow short when you reach September  
When the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame  
One hasn't got time for the waiting game."

Why in Rassilon's name had he given her mittens? She had complained that her hands were chilly as they stood in the Forest of Cheam, and without thinking anything of it, he rooted around in one of his pockets and pulled out a pair of bright pink mittens, ones that were the exact color of her cheeks in the frosty air. And she had beamed at him, and he had felt a fluttery feeling around his hearts that he'd never felt before, except for that one time on Raxafallian, and this time, he hadn't been eating Livonian Fire Snails.

The mittens were a bad idea. Because with her hands covered in pink wool, holding hands just wasn't the same. He couldn't feel the softness of her skin, couldn't sense the pounding of her pulse. And if her fingers tightened around his, it was less noticable; if her palms were sweaty, he'd have no idea. 

He loved holding Rose's hand. Always had, since the first time when they ran across Westminster Bridge on that first adventure together. It was funny how despite the regeneration, her hand always fit in his. But holding it with mittens . . . urgh. It just wasn't the same, and he felt sullen and grumpy now. He found a pretense to drop her hand and shoved his fists into his coat pockets. 

He could tell she was looking at him. But he kept walking, until suddenly he felt a touch on his hand that made him stop in his tracks. He looked down at her in surprise to see that she had taken her mittens off and had slid one hand into his pocket, wrapping her fingers around his clenched hand. 

He stared at her, once again amazed by her. How did she know these things? How could she figure him out when he couldn't do it? 

She looked up at him, a small smile on her face. And part of him wanted to say something. To ask her why she put him first, instead of herself. To beg her to let him to take her home and leave her to a safe, normal, average life. To tell her that she was truly extraordinary. 

But instead, he squeezed her hand inside his pocket and then started to walk with her back to the TARDIS.

***

They were squeezed in at the corner of the Martin family's large dining room table, and he couldn't help grinning at Rose's excitement. Who would have thought that stopping to help a girl rescue her cat from a tall tree would lead to sharing a family's Thanksgiving dinner? Of course, he hadn't told little Sally Martin that her cat was actually a lep!nacht, because he was too busy trying to figure out how the creature had ended up in 1950s Canada. Rose had sensed that he was distracted, so she had accepted the Martins' invitation to share in their meal. 

So here they were, with Mr. and Mrs. Martin and their seven children, around a table that was covered in a patched yet clean cloth and spread with the bounty of the harvest. A modest turkey, supplemented by cranberry sauce and mounds of mashed potatoes, had the place of honor, and he felt his mouth watering. But then Mr. Martin bowed his head, and the whole family followed suit, as did Rose.

The Doctor looked around, feeling a touch of discomfort. He hadn't thought about the prayer before the meal, and he felt out-of-place as he always did at a display of religion. The Time Lords had no concept of gods or devils; theology was a completely foreign concept to them. He'd never really been that interested in it, either. He'd been to more planets, more times, than anyone else, and he'd never really understood how a belief in something unseen and intangible was a comfort to anyone. How could you draw strength from that you weren't even sure existed? Give him science, logic, the certainty of the TARDIS, any day.

As he gazed around the table, taking in the faces bent as they listened to Mr. Martin's words, he found his attention riveted on Rose, as always. At the way the light shone on her hair, the way her eyes were half-closed in thought, the way her breathing was slow and even. He found himself thinking of all the pictures of saints and goddesses he'd ever seen, how they so often had blonde hair and peaceful, content expressions. They looked like Rose did now. And his words to the Beast came back into his head.

_If I believe in one thing, just one thing, I believe in her._

And to his surprise, he found his head bending low, his eyes fluttering shut, as for a moment he gave thanks.

***

"Try to remember when life was so tender  
That love was an ember about to billow."

_wait stop hurry pause deliberate move ponder act_

The Doctor closed his eyes, trying to deal with the conflicting emotions within him. For good measure, he flung his arm across his face, hoping that he could collect himself. 

That feeling, that itch on the back of his neck . . . it was getting stronger. Too strong. He'd been able to ignore it for their last few trips, but it was only by rushing from one place to another, staying constantly in motion. Rose had finally put her foot down, insisting that the universe wasn't going to disappear if she got a good night's sleep.

Oh, how little she knew . . . how little he knew. The universe very well could disappear--or at least what he considered the best part of the universe. 

He slumped down on the jump seat, the soft hum and low lights making him all too aware of how unsettled he was. It had gotten worse as each minute had passed, to the point where he had started calculating time according to the New Universal Standard of the 59th century, which had made a minute last the equivalent of fifty-one minutes and seventeen seconds. He hated NUS time, but in this situation, it meant that "five more minutes" of this anxiety, this nervousness, didn't sound as bad. 

Because this feeling was making him change his mind about the rules that he had lived by for ten lifetimes. Rules that had been part of his earliest lessons in school, about interaction, involvement, interference. He might be the last Time Lord in existence, but he had always known that there were some lines his society had drawn that he wouldn't cross. 

But right now, there wasn't a line he wouldn't cross, a rule he wouldn't break, if it meant he could kiss Rose. If he could _really_ kiss her and tell her that whatever might happen, she would always be a part of him. If he could make her see herself through his eyes, only for a moment, so she'd never doubt her worth or his feelings. 

"Hey, you awake?"

The sound of Rose's voice made him jerk his arm away from his face. "Rose!" he sputtered, surprised at seeing her. "Why aren't you asleep?"

She shrugged her shoulders and joined him on the jump seat. "Dunno. I did sleep for a bit," she reassured him. "But then I woke up, and I just felt . . . all antsy. You know that feeling you get when you're sure you've left the kettle on? How you want to drop everything to rush home and check on it, but at the same time, you think you're just being silly? Because you always remember to turn the kettle off, and besides, what's the worst that could happen if you left it on?" She paused, her gaze on the far-off ceiling of the TARDIS's console room. "I had that sort of feeling. And I couldn't sleep anymore, so here I am."

He let his eyes look upwards, mirroring her posture. "I've had that feeling lately, too. That sense that . . . something's happening, something that I can't really see."

He sensed her eyes on him as she spoke. "Is that why you said a storm was coming?"

He nodded, not trusting his voice at that moment. Most of his anxiety had abated when he saw her, but he still felt jittery. He reached out and slipped his fingers around hers, taking comfort in her touch, in the sound of her breaths, just in her. 

"When you said that . . ." The softness of her voice made him shift towards her, leaning in to hear her better. She was staring ahead, her free hand tucked underneath her even as her legs swung nervously. "I had been so happy to have you back, after what happened with the Isolus and Chloe. And you saying that . . . it scared me a little. Because for a minute, I could see it all: us split up somehow, knowing that I'd never see you again." She swallowed audibly. "And I didn't want to think about it anymore."

It took him a long moment to catch his breath, to figure out how to respond. Finally, he managed to say, "Yeah. Me, neither."

She nodded her head jerkily but didn't say anything. After all, what was there to say? He didn't believe in fate or chance or destiny. But he did believe in instinct and science and history. And they all told him that it seemed as if two years was all he'd get with Rose Tyler. He could whine like a human child about how unfair that was, and right now, it was almost as tempting an urge as kissing Rose. But instead of giving in to either impulse, he squeezed her hand.

"You know, there's this planet called M64 / Delta / Fred, but everyone calls it Pumpkin. It's gorgeous: trees that cover most of the surface, with leaves in shades of red and orange and yellow always falling but the trees never get bare. The skies are that deep crisp blue, with mild sunshine and temperatures that are always between 18 and 23 degrees Celsius. And the air always smells like--"

"Pumpkin?" she asked, a small sad smile crossing her face as she turned towards him.

"Right in one," he said, returning her smile.

"Well, it sounds lovely."

"Oh, it is. And, coincidentally enough, it happens to be the location for the Universal Leaf-Throwing Contest." He pulled his hand out of her grip and crossed his arms across his chest, happy that he had managed to shake off the last of his anxiety and was now facing the prospect of another adventure with her. A safe adventure: for what could possibly go wrong with a visit to Pumpkin to throw a few leaves around?

Her smile grew wider, a bit more cheerful. "I'd say you were having me on, but I've traveled enough now to know there's no way you could make up something like that."

He mock-frowned. "I'm not sure whether to be delighted or insulted. So, what do you say?"

"I don't know, Doctor . . . I mean, do you think you could keep up with me? I happen to be an excellent leaf-thrower. I would have competed for the title of Earth's Best Leaf-Thrower, if I hadn't decided to travel with you," she commented, her voice oh-so-confident. 

He sat up quickly, surprised at her answer. "Oi! That sounds like something I'd say."

She sighed theatrically. "And what a bad influence you've been on me, obviously. How else can you explain all my risky behavior?" She looked up at him, her eyes full of mirth. 

Looking at her, he suddenly felt all the amusement drain from him. And before he could stop them, the words were tumbling from his lips. "I wish that was something you hadn't learned from me. If you'd let me, I'd keep you safe forever."

Her face grew serious in a heartbeat. She bit her lip, and reached for his hand. "If you'd let me, I'd do the same thing for you."

His breath caught in his chest. He felt like his body couldn't hold in all the emotions and thoughts and sensations he was experiencing; he was sure to explode from it all. He tightened his hand around hers, but he couldn't find anything to say. So instead, he leapt to his feet and started putting in the coordinates for Pumpkin.

***

"Oh, the days dwindle down to a precious few  
September, November  
And these few precious days I'll spend with you  
These precious days I'll spend with you."

Phenixia was truly one of the more foreboding-looking planets in the universe, he mused as the two of them stood taking in the view. The temperature wasn't particularly low, but even he was glad for his coat, and to his relief Rose had wrapped a thick down jacket around her upper body before they'd left the TARDIS. A rocky, uneven terrain stretched as far as the eye could see, which actually wasn't very far considering the jagged, imposing mountains and natural arches that ringed the small valley. Not a tree, a plant, or even a speck of green, broke up the brown and tan landscape.

But one didn't come to Phenixia to take in the plant life.

He tilted his head back to watch the creatures floating through the sky, letting his hands stay in his pockets. Phenixian wind soarers were spectacular. Their giant wings flapped oh-so-softly, letting them stay aloft with a minimum of effort. They seemed to fly towards the sun, only to drift back towards the ground. They were truly one of the greatest sights in the universe. And he was able to share this with Rose.

He glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye. If he had to use one word to describe Rose's expression, it would be content. Since their visit to Pumpkin, they had slowed down a bit, just enough to really appreciate the time they spent together. Sharing their fears had made a difference in both of them--it was like it was the two of them against the universe now. He'd never felt anything quite so strong before . . . and he liked it. 

They'd talked so much over the last few days. She'd told him about Jimmy Stones and other people that had hurt her, stories that made his blood boil (and that had never happened before, and really, he should be disturbed by all this, shouldn't he?). Then there were the memories that made him laugh with her, like what it was like growing up on the Estate, running around with Shareen and Mickey and getting into trouble. He'd described what Gallifrey looked like, amazed at how her eyes widened as he talked about the orange skies and the red-leafed trees. And more than just talking about his planet . . . he talked about his feelings. Not much, and not for long. Rose seemed to understand that there was only so much he could say. But even with the small glimpses he had given her, he felt like he was spread wide open before her, and she could read him like a book. And it didn't scare him, didn't make him nervous. Instead, he felt lighter, stronger, calmer. 

"What do you think?" he asked, his voice low.

She sighed deeply, sounding completely satisfied. "Like I could stay here, watching this, forever."

He wrinkled his nose. "Really?"

"Well, maybe not forever. That'd be for something really good. Something really important. But yeah, I could watch this for a long time."

"Did you ever wish you could fly?"

Rose tilted her head to the side. "You know, not really. I mean, yeah, it'd be a cool superpower, but I always thought being able to read minds would be cooler."

"But come on! Flying! Soaring through the sky, covering vast distances!"

"I still think reading minds would be more useful. Just think, being able to see into people's minds and find the right thing to say when they need you to say it," she said, looking at him with a hopeful expression. 

"Well, true," he said, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "Still, not everyone's gonna like the idea of their minds being read."

"Oh." Her face darkened. "I can't believe I didn't think of that. Look at how mad I was when I found out the TARDIS was messin' with my head." She turned to face him, her face flushed with shame. 

"It's a bit different," he said quickly, trying to set her mind at ease. 

"Is it, really?" she said bleakly. "I was just thinking of all those times that I've felt completely helpless, because I can't say the right thing to someone--something that will make them feel better, will calm them down, make them see the light."

It was odd that they weren't holding hands, he thought idly. Normally, he'd have already hugged her by this point. But for some reason, neither of them had made a move to draw closer. Perhaps physical contact was a crutch for them . . . a way to avoid other kinds of closeness. 

"Rose, I've never met anyone who seems to find the right thing to say as often as you do."

At his quiet words, her face brightened infinitesimally. "You think?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding his head. "Rose Tyler, you're unique. I could ask a hundred people, a thousand, what would be good about being able to read minds, and you'd be the only one to want to use that to help other people."

"Nah, I wouldn't be the only one," she said, turning to face the same way as he was, her head dropping as she focused on her foot rubbing along the ground.

"Trust me on this one, Rose," he said. "You'd be the only one."

She shook her head, then grinned at him. "All right, all right. S'pose I'll go along with you, since you are older and wiser than me."

"Oi!" he said in mock irritation. 

She giggled, looking back up at the wind soarers. 

"See, that's what I mean," he said, pointing towards the creatures. "Flying! Imagine the freedom."

"Why am I not surprised that you're all about flying?"

"It does fit me, doesn't it?" he said, grinning at her. 

She smiled at him, and a silence fell between them, one full of stories and laughter, of shared secrets and long looks. And in this moment, all his worries and fears seemed to fall away, at least for now. He remembered standing outside that cafe, telling her about the curse of the Time Lords. But perhaps, just perhaps . . . 

"How long are you gonna stay with me?" He turned his head to look at her, at how she stood so straight and slim beside him, mirroring his posture with her hands in her pockets. She looked at him, her expression blissful.

"Forever." 

***

"Deep in December, it's nice to remember,  
Without a hurt the heart is hollow.  
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,  
The fire of September that made us mellow."

_That was the day that he knew he had given his hearts to Rose Tyler. She had held them for a while without his knowledge, yes, but that moment, standing on Phenixia, was when he realized just what he had done, and knew that she had given him hers in exchange._

_Standing there with her, he had felt so confident. He had finally beaten down that nagging worry, because knowing what Rose meant to him, what he meant to her . . . it made everything else seem less important._

_He stood on Phenixia once again, the rocks and mountains now covered in a blanket of snow, a blanket that was growing deeper as the flakes continued to fall. No wind soarers could fly in these conditions, and the empty skies made the planet feel even more desolate._

_Canary Wharf had happened more years ago than he liked to think about. He'd had companions since then, had cared about all of them. But no one had ever come close to replacing Rose; no relationship could compare to what he'd had with Rose. No one ever would, he figured. And the thought that he had once had something good, something perfect, and he'd never have it again . . . it still hadn't fully sunk in._

_Every fifty years or so, he came back here. He let himself remember her, all their adventures and good times and bad. Strangely, though, he most often remembered those last few days together, the days when they had never been closer. They were painfully bittersweet, because memories were all he had now._

_On his bad days, he fought against the urge to come on the day of their visit, to watch them, to watch her. So far, he'd managed to beat the temptation back, usually by reminding himself that the chance to steal her away from himself would be an even greater--and more disastrous--urge. Today, he'd picked a day two centuries before they had visited, in the midst of an ice age that had sent the wind soarers into a steep decline._

_He stood amongst the snow, watching the flakes fall lazily in the light breeze. He closed his eyes, letting himself think about Rose. And he spoke one word._

_"Forever."_

End.


End file.
